Then, after Capes had been through her work and had gone on, it came to her that the fabric of this life of hers was doomed to almost immediate collapse; that in a little while these studies would cease, and perhaps she would never set eyes on him again. "Do you realize that you are several kinds of a damned scoundrel?" he began. He sat down beside her and stroked her hair. "I merely asked the question," he said, after he had enjoyed the boy's suspense for a moment. She spoke slowly. "Poor fellow! I'm glad he has escaped. If only this child were his: what good times they would have together! The thought passed on, but it left a little ache in his heart. “Yes, I see that. To find the true father at the expense of the beautiful fairy tale Ruth had woven around the woman in the locket was an intolerable thought.
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